Out Of The Shadows
by PinkAngel17
Summary: Post episode 1x14. There are still a few ghosts lingering around, but maybe Meredith Brody can finally live with them in peace.


Disclaimer: I obviously do not own NCIS:New Orleans.

A/N: This is set after episode 1x14 and will, of course, have spoilers. I also blame this on BonesBird. She convinced me to write it and to post it since I had no intention of actually posting it anywhere. It's my first NOLA fic, which is probably obvious, but my muse really liked the idea.

* * *

You never forget the death of your own flesh and blood. The death of any loved one is bad enough, but when it's a sibling it's far worse. It was a horrible feeling, the loss of a sister. The loss of someone you thought would always be your best friend. It was a pain like nothing else. It was a pain that had caused her to be distracted, that had caused her to hesitate in a situation where she'd promised herself she'd never falter, and it was a pain that had led to the death of five people.

It had been the eyes.

Those bright eyes with life still shinning in them. She'd hesitated. She'd seen her sister in those eyes and the still fresh pain had made her lungs constrict tightly. It was a minor hesitation. Her training had kicked in, in the blink of an eye. It was such a small hesitation, but a mistake all the same. A mistake which followed her everywhere and haunted her dreams at night.

It was a mistake that Meredith now realized she would never be able to fully put behind her. The ghosts of the innocent would always be just a few steps behind her, always there...always waiting...always close enough to poke and prod when she let down her guard. She could only accept it and face it head on.

And she had done it.

She'd faced her ghosts instead of trying to put them away safely in the shadows where she might move on. It had been worth it, no matter how much pain she'd had to experience again, it had been worth it to give her ghosts a chance in the spotlight.

The ache in her chest, dulled by time but still very real, was lingering though. She felt better for what she'd done, but at the same time the memory of her sister and of her mistake were now fresh all over again. It would fade again, but not for a long time.

The office was practically empty as she walked slowly past her desk. It was well after most of the agents had headed home, so the silence wasn't at all unexpected. It wasn't all that unwelcome really. At the corner of LaSalle's desk she spotted a photo of little Dylan. His smile was big and wide and he looked so happy. For a moment she found herself smiling sadly down at the photo.

"Hey."

She probably shouldn't have been surprised by the voice. It was probably her mental distraction that made her a little surprised by his presence. Another distraction. Another mistake in the making. She shook the thoughts from her head and turned instead to face Pride.

He was standing in the archway with his back to the kitchen. He'd probably been cooking again. She smiled a little more at that slightly more amusing thought. Pride in the kitchen was a tradition she'd come to associate with life here in New Orleans. It was as much an icon of New Orleans to her now as brightly colored beads and jazz had been before.

"Hey," she greeted in return, trying to seem as cool and collected as she would normally be.

"Finally done than?"

She didn't need to ask 'with what'. She'd known he had been watching the interview or at least some it. He no doubt would have left once things got more in depth in an effort to give her some privacy. Part of being a southern gentleman she supposed. Or maybe just a friend.

She nodded and started walking towards him. "Yep. All done. I'm free to go," she added, throwing in an amused smirk to make it seem all the more like a joke. Nothing about it had really been a joke though.

"Good." He started to turn, but waved for her to follow.

She shook her head amusedly, already knowing what she'd find, but followed all the same. She wasn't going to turn down some of Pride's cooking, no matter how late it was starting to get. As soon as she stepped foot into the kitchen the smell of Cajun seasonings and fresh fish hit her like a ton of bricks. She wasn't sure how she hadn't caught it before.

Distraction. Yeah, distraction will do that.

And it'll get people killed.

Pride stirred whatever he was cooking in the pot on the stove and looked over at her with a look that made her believe he could actually read her thoughts. "Up to eating something?"

As if she'd turned it down. "Of course. What's on the menu this evening?"

"Have a seat and I'll show you."

She rolled her eyes and took a seat at the table as he began fixing their plates. A few moments later and he was setting a bowl of shrimp and grits down in front of her. "Thanks," she said, already picking up her fork.

"My pleasure."

A few minutes of silence elapsed as they ate. Silence while they ate wasn't exactly common, but under the circumstances it wasn't that unexpected either. She was so focused on her grits, and on the less than pleasant thoughts still lingering, that she almost forgot he was still there. She seemed to be doing that a lot over the last couple of days.

She was so caught up in her whirlwind of thoughts that when he spoke again she actually jumped slightly. She mentally cursed herself for being caught off guard again.

"So you're done running?" he asked, his accent bleeding through more heavily as he stirred the remainder of his shrimp and grits around. It was a warm, calm, tone though and she couldn't bring herself to argue the 'running' again.

"I've put my track shoes in the closet," she answered with a half-smile. "For good, hopefully."

"Uh huh," he said. "If you don't mind me saying it...I think there's something else you need to do though. A way to face the last of those ghosts you're carrying around."

She smirked lightly at his word choice and looked back down at her grits before meeting his eyes again. "And what's that?"

He smiled in the 'trying to be mysterious' way he sometimes did when he had a plan he wasn't ready to share as he wiped his hands with a napkin and stood. "I think we're due a couple days off," he said. "Let's take a drive."

He held out a hand and she glanced between it and the warm smile he was also offering her. She didn't hesitate to take the offer. She placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he answered. "Better grab your bag on the way."

He was already through the door as she stared after him curiously. "My bag? How far are we going?"

The only answer was a chuckle.

* * *

The grass around the tombstone was cleanly trimmed, the artificial flower in the silver vase still in its place just in front, and the engraving still as painful to her as it had been the day she'd first seen it. For a moment it was as if not even a day had passed.

She placed the roses she'd bought next to the silver vase as she stared at the grave. The grave of her sister. Her best friend. She hadn't been sure what this would accomplish when Pride had finally told her where they were going. She'd had a very long drive to prepare for it though.

It hadn't helped her prepare.

Somehow Pride had been right though. Visiting her sister's grave site was somehow a fitting end. The metaphorical ghosts were almost tolerable now that they rested at her side instead of looming over her shoulder. It was a strange way to think of her past and the mistakes she'd made, but it was pretty accurate all the same.

She wasn't entirely sure how long she'd been standing there, but soon she felt a presence at her side. A real presence that seemed to chase away the shadows. "Thank you," she said after a few seconds of continued silence. "You were right."

"I've been in your shoes before. Take all the time you need." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and gaze it a light squeeze before turning. "I'll be in the van."

"Thanks," she whispered again as he moved away. Once he was gone she knelt down and ran her fingers over the engraving on the tombstone. "I have an interesting story to tell you, sis." The wind blew over the grave site, a gentle warming breeze that rustled fallen leaves, and Meredith suddenly felt as if her sister was listening and hanging on her every word. A smile crossed her face at the thought.

Yeah, this had been a good idea.


End file.
